


Uncertainty in the Snow

by writworm42



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Angst, Christmas Eve, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:37:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writworm42/pseuds/writworm42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the morning of Christmas Eve, Alex reveals a secret that could change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncertainty in the Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lyryk (s_k)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_k/gifts).



She’d never gotten used to waking up. Since her incarceration, Chapman had learned to watch her back, learned to keep her head down. Learned to listen instead of charging ahead, hoping to save women who were more interested in throwing themselves as far from victimhood as possible. She’d grown accustomed to a rhythm, now—eat, work, shower while the others were shooting the shit, shoot the shit with them. Or don’t. Living in that routine, knowing that everyone around you wasn’t just keeping time, but _following_ it, too, it was easy to forget yourself. Forget your home, your life outside, even your name.

Except when you were waking. For that brief moment every morning, Chapman was Piper again, confused and scared and naïve again. Unsure of where she was, who she was.

But then she saw Alex, and history fell into its place. One look at her cell-mate, usually still asleep (or, at least, pretending to be—Chapman had caught her looking, sometimes, watching smiles flicker on and off her girlfriend’s sleeping face), and Piper knew where she was, knew why she was there. Could feel the air rushing back into her lungs. And so even the uncertainty of waking became part of Litchfield’s routines, that before-breakfast rush of finally realizing you were at home.

So when she woke up on December 24th, once the confusion cleared and she remembered to look to her side, look for that familiar chest rising up and down, up and down in deeper and longer rhythms every minute, she was shocked to find Alex missing. Sitting up, Piper frowned and searched the room with her eyes, taking inventory of every nook and cranny. No Alex.

Piper slid out of her bed, sighing as her bare feet hit cold ground. Nicky must have taken her slippers—again. Straightening up, she wandered out of her cell, gaze still flitting from spot to spot, face to face as women passed her on the way about their own morning routines. She passed to the bathroom, not bothering to linger on the bodies undressing, re-dressing, chatting in front of her, to her—she knew Alex wasn’t among them. She wandered into the cafeteria, circling tables, watching the gradient fill as women sat with their own kind, their own friends, their own lovers. As she looked from person to person, not really processing or seeing but just _looking_ , a sense of foreboding came over her.

“Hey, Chapman, you gonna sit down?”

Piper blinked. Nicky and Morello stared back at her, eyes alert with confusion and concern.

“Where’s Alex?”

Morello was the first to break her stare, a sharp intake of breath following sudden keen interest in the state of her eggs. Nicky continued to stare, only deeper this time, more pointedly.

“No one…” Morello started, but a quick jab in the side from Nicky told her to quiet down, focus again on her breakfast. Coughing, she complied.

“Chapman—Piper—“ Nicky’s eyes were unreadable, her lips drawn into a tight line as she pleaded, “You might wanna sit down for this.”

“What—“ Piper, fully awake now, felt her eyes widen, her heart quicken. “What happened? _Where is Alex?!_ ”

“Here I am.” Piper turned to see Alex slouching against the cafeteria doorway, eyes cast downward in that typical nonchalant way, voice dripping with fatigue. “Come on, Chapman. I need to talk to you.”

As Piper walked away, she could hear her friends’ whispers: _Guess she’ll dig her own grave_.

 

Alex rounded into the courtyard, feet pounding through the snow, Piper following quietly behind. Stopping, Alex heaved a sigh as she slouched against Litchfield’s brick walls, expelling the stale indoor air from her lungs.

“Alex…”

“I’m being transferred.” Alex’s eyes trailed the space in front of her, watching her breath curl and weave as it filled the courtyard’s void. Obscured the view.

“Transferred?” Piper’s voice, high and plaintive but still somehow soft, questioning, sent a shiver through Alex’s body.

“Healy called me into his office last night. I don’t even know why, Piper—But they’re taking me away, they didn’t even need a reason…”

Silence. It was only momentary, but Alex had never felt so alone in those seconds, never felt as crazy as she did while listening to nothing but her own heartbeats keeping time. Biting back tears, she opened her mouth to continue, say _anything_ , but only fog escaped.

“When do you leave?” Piper’s question came as a whisper.

“Tomorrow.” Alex croaked, her eyes falling to the ground, surveying the footsteps she and Piper had left behind. It wouldn’t be long now before the sky, gray and heavy with condensation, would open up to let down new snow, a fresh blanket to cover old tracks. “The fucking bastard even joked about it. _Merry fucking Christmas_.” she looked up to see Piper’s face curl in disgust, anger creasing the blonde’s forehead, and smiled despite herself.

“I just…” sighing again, she continued, “I could leave Litchfield behind. I could take whatever the new place was going to throw at me. But…”

“You don’t want to leave me behind.”

Alex laughed, a quick, loud bark that rang through the courtyard, lingering in the air. “Jesus, Chapman, you can’t even let me finish?”

“Sorry to ruin your romance.” Piper shot back, looking away coyly. She paused for a moment, then walked towards Alex, footsteps tentative and soft as they sank into frozen grass.

“Well,” Alex conceded, leaning in to pull Piper closer, “It’s not ruined yet.”

“Hmm,” Piper mused, wrapping her arms loosely around Alex’s neck, fingers tracing up and down the space between Alex’s shoulder-blades.

“Kiss me, Piper.” Alex whispered. Piper obliged, once slowly, then again and again, quicker and deeper every time. Alex felt as they could go on forever, keep tangling themselves until they melted with the snow, but reality had caught up with Chapman. And so she pulled away.

“This is some kind of prelude to good-bye sex, isn't it?”

Alex, still holding onto Piper, shrugged. “If you want it to be.”

“I don’t.”

“Then it doesn’t have to be.” Alex watched Piper’s face, watched the colour drain and then re-appear as hope flushed into her cheeks, widened her eyes.

“You’re going to fight the transfer?”

Alex shrugged again. “I can talk to Red. Might not do any good, but then again—“

Piper cut her off suddenly, placing a finger on Alex’s lips.

“You know what, I’m sorry. I—Look,” she sighed, eyes steady as she started over, “I want to spend as much time as possible with you. And that’s what I’m doing right here, right now. It doesn’t matter if I’m going to see you tomorrow, or the twenty-sixth, or never again—I shouldn’t be wasting the time we do have.”

Alex smiled. “Alright,” she agreed, “So what do you suggest we do?”

“Well,” Chapman, for the first time all morning, smiled, a wide, mischevious grin, “Why don’t we go inside and see?” 


End file.
